Blond hair. Forbidding cheekbones. A sensitive mouth, the lips a shade darker than his icy skin. They twist as he shouts something I can’t hear over the thud of my heartbeat. And… his eyes…
Half-panicked, half-enchanted by his gaze, I stare directly into his eyes.
The roar of blood in my ears fades away. A wave slaps me in the face, but I don’t feel it, nor the chill of seawater curling around my bare legs. All I can feel is the delicious pain of his eyes piercing mine.
Sometimes, down south, in the coldest part of winter, it would frost. My gran used to say that before the Cataclysm, it would snow and freeze for weeks on end, but not these days. The most we would get was a thin, crisp layer of ice. I remember waking before sunrise to see the world transformed. Every blade of grass, every leaf, every cobweb, would be frozen over. Then the sun would creep over the horizon and just for a few moments the ice would blaze a thousand colours, blue and green and purple and gold, all the colours of the spring to come.
Ygdris’ eyes are like that moment of burning ice.
But the jewel-like colours of the dragon’s eyes are nothing compared to the power behind them. My fists uncurl as it flows through me. Every muscle in my body goes limp. I’m still kicking to keep myself afloat, but only just; my movements are slow, languorous.
His. Be his. Offer him, give him, anything, everything, every part of yourself—
The compulsion is bone-deep. It speaks to some primitive part of me, some remnant in my DNA from before speech and thought. It makes me want to give in. To roll on my back and beg.
Just like before. No struggle. No need even to think. Just obey. Just be his.
Just be nothing.
Weakness flows through my veins, draining the strength from my body. Even my heartbeat slows. I stop swimming. My body drifts in the water. Drifts… and sinks.
Saltwater laps over my chin, and my lower lips, then floods my mouth. My eyes are still locked on to the dragon’s as I slip under the waves.
Something moves beneath me. It doesn’t matter. The dragon’s face is like pale fire, gleaming through the muddy water. I’m still lost in his glamour when he dives after me, his hand going to the weapon at his side.
His weapon? A thread of uncertainty unspools in my enchanted mind. Why does he need a…?
Gritty shadows swirl in the corner of my vision as the dragon reaches me. The direction of the current changes and he wraps one arm around me, holding me in place, his eyes burning into mine.
His arm around my waist is the only thing tethering me to consciousness. Without it, without his touch…
The dragon’s gaze is more than electric. It’s a reminder that goes straight to the deepest part of a human’s soul: that dragons have power, and we have none.
He’s everything. I’m nothing. The crackling spark of his attention strips away all that I am, until there’s nothing left. If he wasn’t touching me, I’d dissolve into the sea.
And then he looks away.
The world snaps back into place around me – or maybe I snap back into it. The water is freezing. My body tries to take a breath and I clamp my mouth shut before I inhale half the ocean.
I struggle against his arm, but it’s no use. He’s holding me tight. Then he raises his other hand, and light flares in the murky water.
He’s holding a drac-tech weapon. A blade of laserlight that could cut through my neck as easily as it cuts through the darkness.
Is that his plan? Kill me and make it look like the sea monster did it? But then why come down here at all, why not let the monster—
My lungs are burning. I didn’t take a breath before I started to freaking drown myself under the dragon’s glamour. Much longer and I’ll drown, no need for the bladelight or the—
Shit.
The sea monster.
The bladelight illuminates the water a few feet around me and the dragon. The water’s still full of grit and muck, but with the added light I can see the creature clearly for the first time. It looks like a giant eel, all slimy black scales and long, coiling body.
And teeth.
I scramble at the dragon’s hand around my waist, but it doesn’t budge. “Let me go!” I try to scream, but the words are lost in a stream of bubbles. The last of my breath.
The monster turns in the dark water. Its eyes are like twin moons, lidless and bone-white. And it’s looking straight at us.